Striving for Balance
by HopeLearningSerenity
Summary: When Mal finds his long lost love, who he assumed was dead, he realizes that she's suffering a fate worse than death. Is it too late to save her?
1. Secrets

Hi, everyone! I don't own any of the Firefly characters, they of course belong to the fabulous Joss Whedon. Everybody else who pops up is all mine, however. This is my first fan-fiction, so reviews are always appreciated but be gentle, please!

Rated for: references to sex and sexual violence, actual violence

Post OiS, pre BDM. MalOCcentric, good amount of fluff (b/c I feel like Mal deserves it :)), but there's a plot too

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Kaylee walked softly, the dust of the planet's surface puffing up in small clouds around her boots. The bonfire was behind her, throwing light so she could see where she was going in the darkness. She thought she'd seen the Captain go this way, and she thought he'd been looking a little blue. And no one should be blue tonight, not with the party going on. These townspeople really knew how to have a good time. The mechanic giggled as she stumbled a little bit; that wine was strong stuff, that was for sure. Seeing a glow of light flicker from behind a boulder, she tucked her strands of brown hair behind her ears and followed the hazy illumination.

As she drew closer, she heard voices. Not real voices, like there was another person besides the Captain, but recorded voices. Pausing just behind the rock, she laid her hands on its cool surface and peered around. Kaylee could just see the edge of his shoulder, and she saw the video card in his hand and the source of the recorded voices. Mesmerized, she watched the video over Mal's shoulder.

There was a girl who looked about twenty with long, dark curly hair and dancing green eyes. She was blushing, looking at the camera out of the corner of her eye and turning away. The person holding the camera continued to circle. "Mal!" she finally said. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm gonna _have_ to have something to remember you by when I leave. Keep me warm on those lonely nights," the Captain's voice replied from off-camera.

The girl laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "Well, what kind of keepsakes are we looking for?"

"Just…say how we met, how we'll be a legend for years to come."

She laughed again. "Malcolm Reynolds, how arrogant you are!" She paused, grabbing her skirts and spinning in a lazy circle. Lifting her pale face, she looked at the sky as she spun around. "We met when the Independents came to my homely little planet looking for recruits. Because it takes a bit to train soldiers, and because we needed help with a few things around here, your commanders decided to stay for a few weeks. You came up to me in the market one day, _claiming _to be lost-"

"Hey, I was lost!" Mal's voice roared playfully from off-camera. The image suddenly spun as he turned the camera on himself. Kaylee's eyes widened, for the Captain looked years younger. Well, of course he did; this was before the war His face was different; less guarded, more friendly. "Lost in her eyes," he added with a wink.

The video continued in that matter, the giddy couple recounting their days. The girl led the Captain around in a bit of a tour, pointing out places where they'd eaten, danced, slept, and…

"This," she said, indicating a huge weeping willow just outside of the main village, "is where you took me the first night you told me you loved me..." her eyes glittered wickedly for an instant, "…and showed me. We'll plant one at our home."

"You're gorram right we will!" the Captain shouted, laughing.

Parting the leaves of the willow, they entered the shrouded cave inside the protective circle of drooping branches. The girl walked up to the tree, and placed her hand on its bark. Her back was to the camera, and she was silent for an instant. Turning her head slowly, looking over her shoulder, she said, "I love you, Mal, and I'll wait for you always."

There was a pause, and then Mal said, "I love you, Rhoswen, and I'll count the days till I see your face again. And that's why I want to give you this." His hand reached into the screen, holding out a necklace made of flat silver links. Each link was set with a dazzling diamond that spit bright light every which way.

She gasped, her mouth open and her eyes wide. Rhoswen took the necklace from the Captain, staring at it in her hands with wonder. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

"_You're_ beautiful," he countered.

Smiling, she clasped it around her neck. "Thank you."

"I know you think I'm going to leave here and forget about you," Mal said, all tones of teasing gone from his voice.

Her look turned to one of shock. "Mal, I-"

"Now, now, no lyin', girl," he said. "I know you think it. Can't say I blame you. But that's why I gave you that. And I have another way for you to know I'm not about to forget you."

"And what's that?" she asked, fingering her new necklace, her hazel eyes downcast.

The image suddenly sank down a couple feet and tilted up, staying on the girl's face. "Will you marry me?"

She froze, eyes still fixed on the leaf-covered grass. Her fingers froze too, mid-caress of one of the diamonds. Very slowly, she looked at him, disbelief scrawled across her face. "What-?" she breathed.

"Listen, Rhoswen, I love you, and I don't want to be with nobody but you. Now I know I'm leavin', but I'll be back, I swear to you. And if I die, well then, at least you knew how I felt," he said. "So, marry me, darlin', and know that I'll come back to you if it takes my dying breath."

At first she was silent, still staring at him, seven different emotions painted on her face. "Yes," came her answer softly. "Yes."

There was an explosive exhale from off-screen. "Well, gorram it, girl, you scared me there for a minute!" The image sunk lower still and tilted off to the side as Mal dropped the camera and it fell over. All that could be seen were two pairs of feet: one in heavy combat boots, and the other in soft moccasins. The feet were very close. "Oh, Rhoswen," the Captain's voice whispered. The video stopped then, a message blinking across the video card's screen indicating that it was over.

Kaylee was stunned; the Captain was _married_? Well, everybody knew he was married to Saffron, but that low-down snake didn't count. That was an accident and a con. But this…this was no con.

"I know you're there, Kaylee," the Captain said.

Kaylee jumped, then blushed to the roots of her hair. Sheepishly, she came out from behind the boulder. "Sorry, Cap," she said with nervous giggle. "I wasn't meanin' no eavesdroppin', just wanted to make sure you were A-OK."

"I know," he replied, then fell silent.

"She's…real pretty," Kaylee said into the quiet, twisting her hands, not knowing what to say. The Captain nodded, and from the very deliberate way he did it, the mechanic knew he was drunk, much more drunk than her. "Where is she?" she asked quietly. "I'm not tryin' to pry, Cap, just…curious. If you don't want to answer, makes no never mind to me," she added quickly.

Mal looked up at her, eyes slightly unfocused. He gestured for her to sit next to him then. Kaylee stepped forward and plunked herself down, back against the rock, right next to her Captain. At first, she didn't think he was going to say anything, but then he started to talk. Slowly, haltingly, at first, but then it became smoother.

"After the war…I went back to her planet to find her. Turns out…while I was gone…slavers had ransacked her village, took everyone. It had been at the very start of the war, so there was no trail to follow, nothing I could do." His tone, Kaylee thought, held far too much self-accusation. Mal obviously didn't believe there had been nothing he could do. He took a deep breath and laid his head back against the boulder. "I assume she's dead, slaves never last long."

"Oh, Captain!" Kaylee said in a low voice. "I'm so sorry!"

"Nights like this," he whispered, looking up at the star-filled sky, "just miss her, is all."

"Well, of course," Kaylee said gently. She reached out and touched his arm.

"You should get back to the party," he said thickly.

"If you want some company-"

"No, I'm fine. _Xièxie_."

The mechanic stood up to go.

"And Kaylee?" Mal said to her back.

"Yes, Captain?" she asked, turning around.

"I'd appreciate it…if this just stayed between us, _dong ma_?"

Kaylee smiled sadly, and nodded her head slowly. "You got it, Cap."

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_She laid back against the pillows, a dreamy expression on her face. She didn't mind her the sweat slowly drying on her skin, or the fact that her curls were stuck to her face in limp strands. There was no one in the room now, they'd all left to give her time alone with her new arrival._

_Glancing down into her arms, she felt herself struck by wonder once again. "I never thought I'd fall in love twice," she said to the newborn in her arms. Her finger arched out slowly and caressed one chubby cheek. Clear blue eyes stared back up at her with downy dark blond fuzz sticking up in tufts from its head. "We'll shock your poor father, that's the truth!" she told the infant, laughing a little bit._

_There was a knock on the door, and a girl with blazing red hair about the same age as the new mother stuck her head in. "Hi, Rhoswen."_

_"Hey, Eara," she said, smiling._

_"Can I come see him?"_

_"Sure."_

_The redhead quietly closed the door behind her and tip-toed her way to the bed. Her mouth fell open when she saw the baby. "Oh, Rhoswen, he's beautiful."_

_"Just like his father," the other girl replied, leaning down to kiss her baby's forehead._

_Eara smiled sadly; no one knew more than her how Rhoswen must feel. Her lover, whom she'd known all her life, had left with the Browncoats. She understood the cause, and she supported the resistance of Unification…but that didn't make the nights any less cold and lonely. Rhoswen and her soldier had known each other for mere weeks, but their love was just as powerful as Eara and Arlen's was; Eara knew that as only one in love can see the emotion mirrored in others. "Just like his father," she echoed. "Who will be back."_

_"With Arlen," Rhoswen added firmly._

_Eara nodded, blinking back tears at hearing her lover's name out loud. "What are you going to name him?"_

_Rhoswen didn't answer for a moment, she simply stared at the newborn in her arms who was slowly drifting to sleep. Smiling absently, she bent her head and kissed her son's forehead again. "I'm going to name him…Shay."_


	2. Gravity and a Bargain

Zoë balanced the gray rubber ball on the tips of her fingers, and then gave it a push, throwing it with grace and precision. It floated through the air over everyone's heads and went sailing through the suspended ring.

"All right, baby!" shouted Wash. The rest of their team, which consisted of Simon and Kaylee, cheered raucously.

"Quit your celebratin'!" Mal shouted, smile on his face, bouncing the ball against the cargo bay's floor. "You ain't won yet!"

"'Yet' being the key word there, sir," Zoë countered, getting in front of Mal to cover him.

From the walkways, Inara and River watched the game below them. "Bouncy ball," the young girl said.

Inara smiled at her and stroked her hair. "Yes, it is." The Companion sighed; it was going to be hard to leave this place, but she knew she was making the right decision. Things between her and Mal…they couldn't go on any longer.

Jayne threw the ball to the Shepherd, who easily redirected its path through the hoop. Just as Kaylee rushed over to grab the ball, _Serenity_ gave a shudder. Everyone froze, eyes darting over each other's faces.

"Kaylee…" Mal said. "What was that?"

"Don't rightly know, Captain," she said slowly. "But I'll go check it out." She handed the ball to Simon and turned to go to the engine room when the ship shook again, this time harder. Kaylee, in mid-stride, was knocked to the ground, but everyone else retained their feet. The mechanic's eyes were wide in surprise, and she scrambled to her feet and ran for the engine room.

"Let's get up to the bridge, Wash," Mal said shortly.

The redheaded pilot dashed up the steps, followed quickly by Zoë, Mal, and Jayne.

Wash sat in his chair just as Kaylee's voice came crackling over the intercom. "Can't see nothin' wrong down here, 'cept _Serenity's_ huffin' and puffin'."

No one answered her; they were too busy staring out the main windows at the looming planet nearby. "Where did that come from?" Zoë said sharply. "There ain't supposed to be a planet around for a million miles!"

Wash gripped the helm tightly, and it shook under his hands. "Well, honey, try telling that to _it_." The pilot glanced over his shoulder at the Captain. "Mal, we have a real problem here."

"Which would be?"

"That planet is…pulling us down."

Mal didn't say anything for a second, still staring out the window at the green-and-blue globe that was steadily drawing closer. "What…did you say?" he finally replied.

"That's impossible!" Zoë scoffed.

"Impossible or not, that's what happening," Wash said, his face set into grim lines. "I can turn but I can't change course; we're getting closer and closer to it and I am _not_ steering that way!"

"Well, try!" Mal fairly shouted.

Wash muttered something under his breath and tried to bank away from the planet. The ship turned, but it kept heading down to the planet below them, now backwards. "Kaylee, can you give me more power?" he called into the intercom.

"Um, I can try," the mechanic called back hesitantly. There was a minute of silence. "Try now, Wash."

Gunning _Serenity's_ engines, Wash pushed the throttle as far forward as it would go. The ship began to shake very lightly, then the shaking grew worse as _Serenity_ pulled against the gravity of the big planet. But she didn't gain any distance; she was still getting drawn toward the massive globe.

"Wash, whatcha doin'!" Kaylee shrieked, the intercom crackling. "You're hurtin' _Serenity_!"

Wash eased up off the throttle, and the ship feel back into the inexorable drag toward the planet. He looked up at Mal helplessly.

Mal let his head hang down, trying desperately to think of a solution. "Can you land her?" he asked after several moments of silence.

Wash didn't answer at first. "Yeah…I think so. If I give in to the drag instead of fighting it, there's a good chance I can land with reasonable control. Theoretically, the pull of gravity should stop once we get in the atmosphere…but there's nothing theoretical about our situation."

"Do it," Mal said. He turned to Jayne and Zoë. "Strap in."

"Mal, what in ruttin' hell we gonna do once we land? We don't even know who's _down_ there!" Jayne protested.

"One problem at a time," Mal replied, hitting the intercom. "Everybody strap in, we're headed for a bumpy landing."

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_She pulled against her chains grimly. Six years of slavery had run the curves her husband had loved so much off her body completely, leaving her mainly muscle. She knew it was stupid to try, what would she do even if she _did_ manage to break free? She didn't know, but she couldn't just stand there. Not while they were hurting Eara. There was one final cry of agony, and then he threw her down, done with his morbid pleasures for the time being. Eara sobbed brokenly against the metal floor of the ship, and the man sneered down at her._

_"Quit your whingin'!" he shouted. Drawing back, he delivered a solid kick to her stomach. Eara's short scream of pain was heart-breaking._

_She snarled and hauled against her restraints with all her might, dark curls falling in her face. Behind her, clinging to her leg, was a boy of about six with dark blond hair. His face was dirty and tearstained, and his hands dug into her skin with the iron fingers of terror._

_Reaching down, the man grabbed Eara by her hair and dragged her back over to where the rest of the slave were. He drew close to her to re-chain Eara, and the brunette took the opportunity to spit on his face. He finished with Eara, and then turned toward the other slowly._

_"Think you're funny, do you?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet. She didn't answer, just stared at him defiantly. "Wonder how cheeky you'll be if I was to take away your little boy?" He reached a grease-stained hand toward the boy, who flinched back, eyes wide._

_Giving vent to a scream of pure rage, she slammed her head up into the man's chin. She heard the _clack_ as his teeth crashed together, even as her own head exploded with pain. He fell backwards onto the floor, blinking dazedly._

_"Don't touch my son!" she shouted at him, her eyes blazing. "Or I swear to you, I'll make a day with Reavers look like a gorram picnic!"_

_Getting to his feet, the man backhanded her, snapping her head to the side and splitting open her lip. "I'll do what I wish!" he shouted back. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but you ain't exactly in charge!"_

_"Oh, you'll do what you wish, all right!" she snarled. "Isn't that the basic basis for rape? You run her to death, and then you'll move to me, and then you'll be sitting around twiddling your damn thumbs, won't you? Just give her a break before you split her wide open!"_

_"Not necessarily…" he drawled, looking suggestively to his left._

_Glancing to her right, she felt her stomach turn over as she caught the man's meaning. The latest brunch of slaves had been kidnapped from a backwater moon; a set of fourteen boys, ranging in age from early to late teens. Her heart ached for them: too old to want to be publicly taken care of…but desperately wanting it just the same. And now here they were, in this ship, bound to who knew where…alone, with these monsters. A sudden thought came to her, and she prayed that, if her husband was still alive, that he'd forgive her this. "What about a deal, then?"_

_"You're in no position to be bartering!"_

_"I think I am," she said slowly. "Can't rape the willing, right?"_

_For a moment, the man stared at her. "What you gettin' at, girl?"_

_"In exchange for my…willingness, no one touches my son, or those fourteen over there."_

_The boys' heads came up in question, looking at her as if she'd gone mad. The man stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "I shouldn't even be considering this, you know. You shouldn't be allowed to make deals."_

_She shrugged. "What have you got to lose? I ain't saying you can't sell those boys once we get to where we're going…I'm just asking you to leave them be while we're in the sky. My son, too. Got to be a bit more pleasant to spend the night with someone not fighting you the whole time, hmm?" Dredging up some semblance of poise, she gave him a seductive half-smile._

_The man grinned lecherously. "I'll go talk it over with the others, and then I'll be back." He left the cargo area, boots clopping harshly against the metal floor. The minute he left the room, she crouched down by Eara, only to discover her friend had fainted. She attempted to make her more comfortable, laughing to herself under her breath, "Looks like I've still got it." _

_A voice came from behind her, "Why would you do that?"_

_She turned around, and looked at the source of the voice: one of the older boys. "Well," she said, "I would hope that if my son was in your shoes, someone would do the same for him." She reached out and grabbed the boy's hand, giving it a squeeze and favoring him with a gentle smile. He smiled back tentatively, still frightened._

_"But…but…" the one speaking stammered. "You don't even know us!"_

_"No, I don't," the woman said slowly, carefully thinking about her answer. She didn't want to crush the sense of burgeoning manhood brimming on some of the older ones' faces; the last thing they wanted to hear was that she was "taking care of them". After all, the oldest of these boys might be only seven years her junior, which wasn't enough to start playing the surrogate mother card. "But I figure we all need to stick together. It's the only way we'll get through this."_

_There was a pause, and he nodded, and she could see the tears in his eyes. "What's your name?"_

_ "Rhoswen, and this is my son Shay."_


	3. First Steps

Hey, everyone! Really sorry it's been so long since I updated. College the devil, how dare biology classes take away from my writing? LOL Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, I'm glad you liked it! And now...on with the story!

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A triangular ear covered with gray fur twitched sleepily as a faint droning noise filtered into his brain. He opened his yellow eyes slowly, blinking a few times as he gathered his tired wits. He lay in a large pile, among his brothers, so he padded carefully over to the window to locate the source of the foreign noise. At first, he saw nothing, just the empty sky with a few puffy white clouds above him, and the white sands and pounding waves of the beach below him.

Then, out of the sky, came the source of the noise, growing louder and louder as it approached. It was a ship, that much he could understand, but that was about it. It had been quite a few years since he had been able to understand anymore than that. The ship came down low, looking as if it were going to land, then it shot back up. If he'd had adequate facial muscles, he would've smiled in pity. They all tried to escape, but no one could escape Psyche. He glanced back over his shoulder at his sleeping brothers and sighed...no one.

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_Rhoswen threw the flimsy robe they'd given her around her shoulders and tied it around her waist. Oh, by the 'verse, did she hate this. But, it was all for the best, it was all to protect her boys. She smiled faintly to herself as she gathered her things to leave the slaver's quarters; she'd begun to think of that motley band of fourteen like her sons, as well. And they were so good to Shay, always taking care of him and playing with him. He couldn't have asked for better brothers if she'd given birth to them herself. They'd get through this, together, and when they did... Oh, what a brood she would present to Mal when she found him. Her smile grew at the thought of her husband. Nothing as paltry as this could separate a love like theirs. She'd find him._

_"What you smilin' about, girl?" the man asked her from where he lounged, still naked, on his bed._

_"None of your gorram business," she said without much venom, still thinking about the broad shoulders of her husband, how she could feel the muscles shifting underneath cloth and skin when he carried her._

_"Don't you tell me what to do, whore!" he shouted, paradoxically angered by her mouth and lack of reaction to him._

_"Oh, trust me, I'm no whore," she said, raising her eyebrow in mocking. "Whores get paid."_

_"You think you're so high and mighty, so much better'n us," he spat. Then, a cruel smile spread across his face. "Bulletin came across the Cortex today...the war's over."_

_Rhoswen froze, the tattered remains of her clothes bundled in her arms. He wouldn't be saying this unless it was to hurt her. She closed her eyes against the tears she knew would come._

_"Browncoats lost; the Independents were slaughtered in Serenity Valley and the Alliance has taken control. Ain't no secret about your husband," he paused for a moment. "You think you crossed his mind...as he breathed his last?"_

_Rhoswen gritted her teeth together as she turned to the slaver. "Do not speak to me of him."_

_"So," he continued, "now that you're a widow and all-"_

_"I ain't no widow!" she fairly screamed, the tears spilling out of her eyes and down her cheeks._

_The slaver went to finish his sentence when the ship gave an awful lurch, spilling him out of the bed and Rhoswen to her hands and knees. Sirens began to wail, and a commotion rose from the corridor. The ship lurched again, this time harder and it took longer to correct it. Without thinking, and before the slaver could tell her to do otherwise, the brunette mother shoved herself to her feet and ran for the cargo bay, ran to her sons._

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Mal staggered out into the bright sunlight with everyone else, shading his eyes from its blinding glare. Well, they'd landed in one piece, but they sure couldn't leave. After getting below the atmosphere, they'd tried to push back out, but the gravity just exerted its hold all over again. They were in a right mess...make no mistake about that. "Everybody all right?" he asked. The landing had been smooth, but he had to ask.

"Everyone's fine, Captain," Zoë answered, hefting her sawed-off shotgun cautiously. "Do we...um...have a plan, sir?"

"I'm workin' on it," he grumbled, taking in their surroundings. They'd landed on a beach: what could only be an ocean on one side of them and a thick jungle on the other side. _Serenity_ was no worse for the journey, sitting placidly on the golden sands in perfect working order. Off in the water, not more than a hundred yards away, was an island of pure white sand. On the island sat a squat stone castle, the rock that it was made of contrasting darkly against the sands. Mal thought he saw a flicker of light in one of the windows of the castle...

"Pretty mother," River said, staring at the castle, an enigmatic smile spreading across her face.

"River?" Simon questioned, walking after her as she approached the gently breaking waves.

"What is it, sweetie?" Kaylee asked, looking at the girl curiously.

The strange teenager pointed to the castle, and then cast her penetrating gaze on Mal. "Don't be angry."

Mal felt a chill run through his body. "What are you chatterin' about, girl? You've done no wrong, what should I be mad about?"

River shook her head. Then, her mood of seeming happiness evaporated as she looked at the ground. Her eyes filled with apprehension. "Doesn't mean to harm, just wants some company. She's lonely, so lonely...but she crushes them all." She lifted one bare foot, and then the other, as if trying to get off the sand. She was quickly working herself into one of her fits.

Simon gathered her in his arms and looked over his sister's dark head at Mal. Kaylee walked over and also put her arms around River's shaking shoulders, the girl's sobs muffled by her brother's chest.

Mal sighed. This really wasn't a situation he was prepared for, at all. And with River acting all funny, and her being a telepath, it made him very nervous to be on this uncharted planet. His gaze traveled along the ground, and near the jungle, he noticed an odd stone, all by itself. Almost like a grave...but he didn't have time to let his curiousity be satiated. "Well," he said finally, "since we're here, we might as well see if there's anything to eat around here. I don't want nobody eatin' anything funny, just...stuff that's real recognizable. And stick together."

"Oh, I ain't goin' in there, Mal," Jane said, eying the jungle with wild eyes. Jane usually only got that look in his eyes when there were Reavers about.

"Your sister got any real strong feelings about this here jungle?" Mal called over to Simon, keeping his hand rested on the butt of his revolver.

Though the doctor glared at Mal for assuming River should be any use to _him_, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, anyway. At first, she simply shook her head, refusing to answer the question, but then she raised her tear-stained face to look at the jungle. There was a moment of silence as everyone held their breath, waiting for their strange companion to get any kind of feeling from the wall of greenery before them. The teenager's eyes widened considerably, and she started shaking her head again. Her small hands clenched her brother's arms. She started backpedaling toward the ocean.

"See?" Jane said, also shuffling away from the jungle, big boots creating deep ruts in the sand. "She don't like it, either! I ain't going in there. No way, no how!"

"Captain," Zoë said sharply, immediately drawing Mal's attention away from his panicking mercenary to his first mate.

Zoë's eyes were staring intently at the jungle...where a vine seemed to be slithering across the sands toward the crew and the _Serenity_.

"Someone please tell me what _that_ is," Wash said to no one in particular as Zoë sighted along the barrel of her shotgun.

"Don't know, don't care," she said, and pulled the trigger. The report was thunderous, and the vine exploded at the tip, sending green pulp everywhere. The vine snaked back into the jungle with astonishing speed, rustling the bushes as it retreated.

"OK, this planet is really startin' to make me feel as if we're not exactly welcome," Mal said. As he spoke, he heard a greater rustling noise. When he looked up, he had to rub his eyes to make sure they weren't playing tricks on him.

Over a dozen vines were creeping steadily out of the jungle. And despite the fact that they could obviously not see where they were going, they were headed right for _Serenity_. One vine, far ahead of the others, began winding itself around the landing gear.

Without hesitating, Mal drew his revolver and shot the vine. It recoiled in pain, but the others were still coming... "Everybody back on the boat!" Mal roared, setting his crew into motion without any questions. Well, maybe _one_ question.

"Where are we going, Mal?" Wash demanded as he ran up the cargo ramp. "We can't leave the planet, we already tried!"

"Off this beach!" he replied, hitting the controls to close the ramp after everyone was on board. Quickly glancing over the ocean and making an even quicker decision, he added, "And over yonder." He pointed to the island with the castle, and again thought he saw a flicker of light in one of the high windows. "Don't appear to be any creepy plants over there that could try to snatch my ship."

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_Rhoswen rose to her feet, back aching from digging. The sunset bathed everything in molten gold. She felt her eyes began to sting for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, first in her despair over the fate of her husband's cause...and now in grief at the loss of one of her boys._

_She tried to bite back the tears, but they came anyway, falling down her face. Her breath hissed through clenched teeth as the salt from her tears ran over the abrasions on her face. At least they'd finally escaped the stench of the burning ship. Rhoswen felt like they'd walked for miles to get away from it, all the while carrying Acario's body. _

_She placed the flower she was holding on top of the grave, right at the base of the headstone. Acario had been the sweetest boy, always playing with Shay and looking out for him. His eyes had always seemed to look deep into her heart...and remind her of her husband's gaze: powerful yet tender. But when the ship had crashed, its engines failing from trying to fight the gravity of this planet, Acario had not been one of the lucky ones._

_"Well," she said aloud to herself, "you can't protect them from everything, no matter how hard you try."_

_Turning away from the grave, she looked at the motley band of boys she had to watch over. They'd all suffered from scrapes and bruises from the crash, nothing severe. The only loss to her group had been Acario, and Eara, of course. Rhoswen's old friend hadn't survived, either. But, the most important thing they'd come away with besides their lives was their freedom. They were free. It had been nearly seven years since Rhoswen had tasted freedom. And despite all their problems right now, that fact couldn't help but bring a smile to her tired face._

_"Korbin?" she called as she headed toward the boys, wiping her hands off on the tattered remains of her skirt._

_"Yes?" he answered immediately, getting to his feet. Korbin was one of the older boys, always trying to help whenever he could._

_"Could you carry Shay, please? I'm a little tired, and I'd really appreciate-"_

_"Of course, absolutely," he instantly replied. He scooped up Rhoswen's dirty son in his arms, setting the boy's weight on his hip. _

_"Thank you." Shielding her eyes, Rhoswen scanned their surroundings. She didn't like the feel of the jungle, too oppressing. And after years in chains, feeling oppressed what exactly what she _didn't_ need. A sensation of being watched was beginning to overtake her, and she remembered that she hadn't exactly checked to see if any of the slavers had survived the crash. She had taken the boys and simply ran._

_Turning to her left, she was surprised to see an island off the beach. Hunching on the sands like an angry toad was a dark castle. Rhoswen immediately liked it; it would give her a good hiding place and an even better position should it come to defend her boys. However, there was the small problem of how she was going to get there. It was, after all, an island._

_Just as she was considering chopping down some trees and lashing them together, a strange thing happened. The water of the ocean began to ripple, as if in a breeze. The ripples grew stronger, and the waters began to part slightly. Broad black stones were revealed, their surfaces glistening. They extended into the water, and right up to the island._

_Rhoswen held her breath, hand clenching one of the boys' shoulders. Should she go, or should she stay? There was no telling when the water would recover the stones, but this might be her only chance to get to the safety of the island. Reaching down and taking one boy's hand on her left, and another on her right, she set her shoulders firmly. "Come on," she said, filling her voice with confidence to convince the boys as well as herself, "let's go."_


	4. Plans and Explanations

River ran to the door of the dark, brooding castle. Smoothing her hands ecstatically over the wood, a beaming smile broke out over her face. She placed her cheek against it, eyes closed in rapture.

Shepherd Book cocked his head to the side in curiosity. "It would seem the place isn't a danger to us, or at least none that she can sense."

"Mother's home, everyone's welcome," River said dreamily, caressing the door.

Mal gazed skeptically at the young girl. "You want to try to make sense of anything she's sayin', Doc?" he asked Simon.

"I suppose I could give it a shot." He walked over to his sister and touched her shoulder. "_Mei-mei_, is there someone inside?"

River nodded. "Mother…Mother's inside."

Simon narrowed his eyes. "Who's Mother?" His sister ignored him, rubbing against the heavy wooden doors with her face. He tried again. "Will she hurt us? Is she reasonable?"

River's eyes opened in surprise. "Oh, no, she wouldn't hurt us," she said as if Simon had suggested that Kaylee would hurt them. "But…sometimes reasonable, sometimes not."

"So, she's moody?" Wash chipped in. "Is today a good day or a bad day? Should we come back at a different time of the month?"

"Wash!" Kaylee exclaimed. "Stop that! You don't know who can hear you! You don't wanna…offend nobody."

Wash opened his mouth to defend himself when Mal cut him off. "Way I see it, we don't got a lot of options. Don't matter what mood Mother's in, we're going to have to come knockin', see if she knows what's what on this forsaken planet." He looked around him at his crew. "Zoë, you and Wash stay with the ship. Jayne, you come with me."

"I'd like to come, as well," Book said, stepping forward.

Mal nodded curtly. "Fine. We'll need the girl, too."

"Oh, I don't think so," Simon said fiercely. "She's not going in there with you!"

"Look, Doc, I ain't got time to argue with you. This place is probably a gorram maze, and I need her to find Mother."

"Then I'm coming with you," the doctor challenged.

Mal's nostrils flared angrily, but then his expression smoothed out. "Fine, but that means if it comes to fightin', there's one more person we have to watch out for…and one less pair of sharp-shootin' eyes guardin' your sister. Unless…of course…_you_ mean to defend her."

Simon's jaw dropped open, and only with a great force of effort did he manage to close it. The young man's hands balled up into fists at his sides, but the Captain's logic could not be fought. "If a single hair on her head-"

"Yes, yes, you'll ensure I die a fiery death," Mal interrupted. His blue eyes suddenly glinted with mischief. "No worries, Doc, that will happen, anyway." He turned to his mechanic. "Little Kaylee, you stay on the ship with Inara."

Inara was nodding, this was not the time to fight, but Kaylee seemed to disagree. She started shaking her head, eyes wide and scared. "Captain…I'm sorry, but I don't want to stay on _Serenity_. Please, can I come with you?"

"Not want to stay on _Serenity_?" Mal said incredulously. "Did you hit your head when we landed, girl?"

"Captain, those vines, they give me the willies!" she blurted out. "Please, I don't want to be on the ship right now, let me come with you."

Mal was silent for a moment, studying the short brunette's face. "All right, fine," he finally said, "but you keep an eye on River and stay near to the Shepherd and Jayne."

Kaylee nodded vigorously, a tear falling out of her eye. "Yes, sir."

Mal turned to Jayne and Book. "Gentlemen, let's get us some weapons and go lookin' for the lady of the house."

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_Rhoswen pushed aside three-year-old wreckage delicately. She didn't know what she was looking for; it's not as if she'd had possessions with her as a slave. Perhaps she just needed some time to think…alone. Not that she was ever really alone, anymore. The…voice was getting more insistent and could no longer be ignored or explained away as being her own conscience talking to herself. This voice definitely did not belong to any part of Rhoswen Reynolds._

_Bending down, she tried to flip over the remains of the head slaver's desk. It was lying on its front, and she certainly couldn't sift through the drawers with it like that. Gritting her teeth, Rhoswen lifted with all her strength. The desk rose a few inches off the floor, but not enough for her to flip it upright. _What are you doing, anyway?_ she asked herself. _What are you looking for in this wreck of misery?_ Ignoring it, she continued to pit her muscle against the heavy desk. Sweat broke out on her upper lip and near her temples. Her muscles cried out against the weight they were trying to lift._

_Unable to move it any higher, Rhoswen let the desk fall in a cloud of dust and ash. Coughing as the ash irritated her throat, she backed away from the desk and found her way to the head slaver's bed. Sitting on it brokenly, she buried her face in her hands. They'd been here three years, though it didn't seem like that long. At the same time, however, it paradoxically seemed like it had been much longer. It wasn't a bad life; they had plenty of food and the clothes that had been left over in the castle were gorgeous…Central planet stuff. It felt odd to walk around in nothing but elegant dresses, but it was all there was for her to wear. The clothes for the boys were a bit more practical, still fancy, but they weren't rendered completely useless. Rhoswen still felt like she was wrapped in flowers…and not in a good way. She was getting used to it, though. _

_What she wasn't getting used to was the way the boys were growing up directly before her eyes. Some of them suddenly grown men with the ridiculous ideas of grown men. She'd probably handled it very badly, but she hadn't known what else to do when Silas had come to speak with her._

_He'd knocked on the door to her room. "Rhoswen, can I talk to you for a minute?"_

_"Of course," she'd said brightly, folding some clothes and putting them away in a large bureau. "What is it?"_

_The boy had suddenly seemed without words, which wasn't like Silas at all. He'd cleared his throat, cheeks staining red. "Myself and the older guys have, um, been talking. We think that since we, you know, seem to be trapped here, that perhaps one of us should…um…should-"_

_"Silas, what are you getting at?" Rhoswen had asked, putting her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow at the tall boy._

_"-should marry you," he'd finished, raising his eyes from the floor to look into her astonished green ones. "I'm here to ask you if you'll marry me."_

_Sitting in the slaver's quarters, Rhoswen shook her head. What in all the 'verse had they been thinking? The idea was ludicrous, pure childish fantasy. While she appreciated them being concerned with her…happiness, that was _not_ the way to go about it. Besides, she was already married. Whether or not she was a widow was up for debate, of course. _

_Maybe it was the conversation with Silas, or maybe it was being back in the slave ship where she'd spent a good chunk of six years, but Rhoswen's iron-clad grip on her control that she'd managed to maintain for nine years suddenly snapped. Getting to her feet, she screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice reverberating off the rusted ceiling of the ship, tears squeezing out of her eyes. _

_When her scream finally faded, she took another deep breath and shouted, "I want off this dead planet! I want to take my son home! I want those hellish six years of my life back! I want…my gorram…husband!" She felt her anger at what life had dealt her lash out all around her as if it was a physical thing, seething out from her body like a living creature. Her rage expanded to everything in sight, and she glared fiercely at the desk that stubbornly refused to be flipped upright. Crossing the distance between the bed and the desk in long strides, Rhoswen drew back and kicked it with a booted foot._

_Without warning, the desk's legs came forward while the top of it lifted up and back. It slammed onto its feet, making the metal floor groan. Another cloud of dirt rose up around it as it sat…perfectly right-side-up._

_Rhoswen backed up until she ran into the opposite wall, her hand covering her mouth in fear and disbelief. Tremors overtook her body, and she stood trembling until her legs would no longer hold her. She slid to the floor, sitting in the three-year-old dust, eye wide and unseeing, her mind uncomprehending of what had just happened. And then…the voice came again._

_It may have been minutes, it may have been hours that Rhoswen sat on the floor, listening to the stranger in her head in a semi-daze that was half-wonder and half-skepticism. When the voice had finished, Rhoswen got shakily to her feet and walked over to the desk. She slowly opened the top right drawer and then gasped in wonder, tears filling her green eyes._

_Laying in the drawer, amongst the remnants of the other knick-knacks the head slaver had taken into his head to keep, was the diamond necklace Mal had given her when he'd asked her to marry him. It was completely unharmed; none of the diamonds were missing. Lifting it out reverently, Rhoswen stared at it for a moment, almost forgetting to breathe. She fastened it around her neck then, the weight of the metal and gems a comfort she thought she'd lost long ago._

_"Thank you," she whispered to the air around her, to the voice, but it did not respond._


	5. Embrace the Changes

Sorry it's been so long, my new job is a killer! Thanks for all the reviews, keep 'em coming! The more you review, the more I want to tell you the story! Just a bit of credit needs to be given: all the Chinese you're starting to see is from http/fireflychinese.home. I'm not even going to pretend that I know what the hell anyone's saying on Firefly when they're speaking Chinese, lol. Now, on with the story!

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Mal walked softly, taking care that his boots didn't knock aside a stray piece of stone or make any other unnecessary sounds. Behind him walked River, eyes agog as she tried to take in every inch of the stone hallways, a huge grin on her pretty face. Behind her was Kaylee, gripping River's hand tightly and licking her lips nervously. The mechanic kept her eyes on the ground, trying to keep a look out for more creeping vines. Jayne and Book pulled up the back, guns drawn and eyes straining for the slightest movement.

"You want to give me a general kind of direction, little one?" Mal whispered to River over his shoulder. "We've been wandering about for quite some time and bein' lost ain't exactly part of the plan."

"Going the right way," River said, her voice nearly bursting with excitement. "She'll be happy to see us," she added, giving Mal a penetrating stare.

Mal felt a chill crawl up his spine at the young girl's look. She kept giving him eyes as if they were sharing a private joke. Trouble was, the Captain has no idea what the joke was. And River didn't appear to be in a mood to share that information.

The castle was huge, the ceilings high above their heads. It appears as if no one lived there; there were no decorations in the hallways, no rugs on the floors. Torch brackets hung empty and dusty high up on the stone walls. The only light came from the windows, which, while plentiful, were not nearly plentiful enough for Mal's taste. Most of the time, he could only just see about six feet in front of him. Why hadn't he thought to bring flashlights? A sick feeling was beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach. Though he'd feigned calm in front of the crew, Mal was feeling the cold claws of fear digging into the back of his skull. If Mother was unwilling to help them, or hostile, they could be trapped here forever. The thought of never flying again, of being…_jailed_ on this planet made bile rise to the back of Mal's throat. No time for that now, though.

They began passing large wooden doors. They were made of a tree unlike Mal had ever seen, the wood so deep a red it almost looked black. The only reason Mal could tell it even _was_ red was when the light from a window happened to shine on it. "Are we getting warmer, River?" asked Book in a kind tone, but his eyes were everywhere, sharp and watchful.

River didn't answer, she simply took in her surrounds, the smile on her face never fading. She dragged her fingers along the thick wood of the doors, tips following the carved designs that decorated the surfaces of some.

"River, honey?" Kaylee tried, voice shaking. "Are we almost to Mother?"

River suddenly stopped at one of the doors. She reached up high and dragged her hands down slowly with the grain. Her fingertips probed the designs as she passed them, following the carved lines in their diagonal slant. Unexpectedly, she giggled and blushed a bit. "Brothers, like Simon. Brothers," she whispered excitedly.

"Captain," Book said, his voice carrying a bit of urgency.

"Preacher?" Mal answered, turning away from the hypnotic sight of the teenage girl caressing the door. The Captain felt his blood run cold at the look on Book's face.

"Those aren't designs on that door."

Mal turned back to the huge wooden door, and felt his heart stutter for a second as in the dim light he gathered the Preacher's meaning. River's hands were not running over carvings…they were running over claw marks.

Kaylee noticed, as well, and her innocent eyes grew wide. "River, are you sure?" she whispered, trying to keep the emotion from her words. The mechanic had never been so afraid in all her life. She didn't know what could be worse than plants that tried to snatch you…but she didn't want to find out…and those marks on that door seemed to promise even more unpleasant surprises.

Instead of answering, River wound her delicate hands through the large metal handle of the door and swung it open. Kaylee gasped in fright and backed so far away she only stopped when she slammed into the opposite wall. Mal snatched River away from the door as a reflex, and pushed her back toward Kaylee as Jayne and Book stepped forward, guns aimed into the room.

A huge room spanned before them. It had been full of furniture at one point, but now that furniture was either broken or scattered around the entire room, built up in corners and piled along the walls. The center of the room was clear, save for mounds of blankets that seemed to be shoved into the vague shape of nests or just spread out roughly over the stone floor. What was curled up in the blankets, however, was the part everyone was having a problem with.

"Are those…dogs?" Jayne managed to hissed out, eyes bulging from his head in confusion.

Mal shook his head numbly, but he couldn't seem to make his vocal cords work to answer his mercenary. They were not dogs…they were wolves. Mal had never seen an actual wolf before, but he had a general idea of what they were supposed to look like. Curled up in a large pile near the center of the room, the blankets their make-shift beds, the wolves slept on, apparently unaware of the fact that the door had been opened or that there were five strangers in their midst. Ears flicked and noses twitched as they dreamed, their coats a glossy gray covering sinuous muscles.

Human enemies were something Mal was accustomed to handling. He was rarely afraid when faced with an adversary of his own species. But Malcolm Reynolds had never been in a fight with an animal. When you stayed in space, you didn't really encounter too many of them. Just the thought of the wolves opening their cold yellow eyes and flying at him with teeth and claws made his throat so dry he could barely swallow. There was just something about how you couldn't reason with them, you couldn't talk to them, that seemed to make them infinitely more frightening than another person. It was what made Reavers so terrifying, too: that lack of common ground.

"Perhaps, Captain, we should just shut the door and move on," Book whispered, slowly backing out of the doorway and into the hall, his eyes intent on something farther back in the room, beyond the sleeping wolves.

Beyond the sleeping lumps of fur was…something else. It was much bigger, larger than even Jayne, but the way it was lying on the floor made its definite shape hard to discern. Gray fur covered its hulking body, and its form rose and fell as it breathed deeply. It was that…thing, even more than the wolves, that made Mal wish for the millionth time to be off this planet.

"Mighty fine idea, Preacher," he finally managed to get out, swallowing hard. Jayne moved out of the way, standing between the girls and the room full of wolves as Mal and the Shepherd began slowly swinging the doors closed.

Without any provocation, the hulking creature in the back began to stir. Mal and Book froze with the doors no where near shut, fearing to breathe, fearing to move anymore. The creature got to its feet sleepily, rubbing its eyes with massive paws in a child-like fashion that would've been comical under safer circumstances. Again, for what seemed like the millionth time, Mal's blood seemed to freeze in his veins.

The ability to breathe, to think, abandoned him. The sight before him completely robbed him of any capacity to function. There was a roaring in his ears which could only be his blood leaving his head so quickly he thought it was inevitable that he was going to faint. "_Wuh de ma…_"

"What in God's name is this…?" Book breathed, his grip on his gun so tight the weapon shook.

It was about seven feet tall, its body shape definitely humanoid. But after shape, that's where its resemblance to a person stopped. Fur hung off its body in long shaggy ropes, its biceps roughly the size of one of the mule's tires. Its ear pointed up sharply, almost disappearing in fur that grew like a mane, hiding an undoubtedly thick neck. Its muzzle yawned widely, still unaware of the crew, revealing dagger-like teeth stained a yellowish color. Shaking itself all over, it bent back toward the floor, as if it was going to lay down again.

Whether it smelled them, or simply sensed them, was irrelevant. Its head came up slowly as it crouched, two feet and one huge paw on the floor. Mal could swear he literally felt his heart stop when he saw the creatures eyes dilate with rage. It snorted deeply, nostrils flaring.

"Captain…" Jayne hissed, slowly edging away from the door.

The creature's mouth opened, and it let out a bellow that struck Mal right on his sternum, vibrating his lungs and making it hard to breathe. In the blink of an eye, the wolves were on their feet, raising their voices in chorus with the monster behind them. Lips curled, velvety snarls rolling out of throats that longed to swallow the intruders whole. Paws began to take steps forward, and the creature in the back howled again, shaking dust from the ancient rafters.

"Go!" Mal shouted, shoving River at Kaylee. The mechanic grabbed the girl's hand and sprinted, with Jayne and Book close behind. As the others fled down the hallway Mal fired a shot into the room blindly, not even bothering to aim; there wasn't time. Lunging forward, he slammed the doors shut and went after the others, knowing the doors would hold back the wolves and the creature not at all. He caught up, and glanced around him at the stone walls flying by in a blur: everything looked the same. His heart pounding and his lungs already aching, he looked down for a second. "Find us a safe port, little one," he panted to River.

Looking up at him as she ran, she smiled beatifically as if oblivious to their situation. "Find Mother," she answered with an energetic nod.

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_"Mom, where did you get that necklace?" Shay asked, tilting his brown-haired head to the side._

_Rhoswen looked up sharply, confused for an instant, her fingers leaping to her throat. But as she felt the metal nubs and hard diamond edges, she relaxed and smiled. But just as she calmed, she stiffened again. What should she say? "I…ah…found it today, on the wreckage of the ship. Must have been someone else's they captured," she lied._

_Shay's blue eyes narrowed, and he bent his head back to his book. After a moment or two, he said in a sullen voice, "Don't lie."_

_"I beg your pardon?" Rhoswen questioned. Her eyebrow was raised sternly, but her heart hiccupped in her chest. How did he know…_

_"Don't lie," he repeated, face still buried in his book. Finally he looked up again, boyish looks twisted in confusion and hurt. "I can see that you're lying. It's screaming all around you; in the air, above your head."_

_Rhoswen hid all pretense of motherly control, and her jaw fell open. She chose her next words carefully. "And…how long have you been able to…"_

_"Read the air around you?" he finished for her. She could only blankly nod. He shrugged, a bit uncomfortable now. "I can do it with the others, too. I just…see what they really mean. I guess it's what they're thinking." His mother's face had gone completely white. "Mom, are you all right?"_

_No, she was not all right. "Um…yes, yes, I'm fine. And you don't know how long you've been able to do this?" she asked again. Shay opened his mouth to answer when there came a knock at the door. "Come in," she called. Her voice wasn't shaking…amazing._

_A blond head pushed into the entrance, followed sheepishly by a lanky body. The young man's fair complexion was his enemy today, for his blush stood out as if painted on. "Hi, Rhoswen. Hi, Shay."_

_The older woman stiffened slightly at the sight of Korbin. After what had happened that morning, she still felt off-balance and caught off guard. And right now, after what Shay had just told her, she was in no mood. "Hello," she replied coldly._

_"Look…" he tried to begin, glancing at Shay as if he didn't want him to hear the conversation, but Rhoswen made no move to dismiss him, so Korbin continued, "we're sorry. We didn't mean to upset you, we're just trying to look out for you."_

_"Shay," Rhoswen said, not taking her eyes off the older boy in the doorway, "would you give Korbin and I a moment alone? I'll be in shortly."_

_Shay looked back and forth between the two of them for a minute, then gave Korbin a glare that sent a chill right to the blond boy's heart. He bowed lightly to his mother, and went into the bedroom._

_Once the door clicked shut, Rhoswen retorted, "I don't need to be looked after, thank you very much. I'm supposed to be the mother figure here, am I not?"_

_Korbin's blushed deepened, which Rhoswen hadn't thought was possible. "Yes, you are. But that doesn't mean you have to carry the burden of all this by yourself!" he blurted out. "One of us can help shoulder the responsibility-" _

_"Enough," Rhoswen interrupted, her blood beginning to simmer._

_Korbin immediately shut his mouth, and his gaze found the floor. "I came here to apologize myself, because it was my suggestion in the first place."_

_"Well then you _should _be apologizing in person," she said, allowing her tone to soften, but not really feeling any softer inside. She was trying to keep her temper in check. "Korbin…you of all the boys know me the best. Why would you suggest something like that? You know I still believe Malcolm's alive, and that even if I didn't, I'm would never marry one of you!"_

_"Never?" he asked, eyes still on the floor, his voice holding a pleading note that spoke of something else._

_His tone sent loud alarm bells clanging in Rhoswen's head. As she stared at the head of the young man she thought of as one of her foster sons, her eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh, Korbin. Please. You're not telling me that-"_

_"And if I am?" he challenged, lifting his head to look directly into her astonished green eyes. "Rhoswen, I've loved you since the day I met you. I can't stop thinking about you…ever! It was my suggestion because _I _wanted to marry you! But the others chose Silas, because he's the oldest. None of them know how I feel." His eyes became desperate, and he bent on one knee before her, hands clasped together, begging. "If you'd just give me one chance, I'd be the best husband to you that anyone could ever be."_

_Rhoswen had long been frozen in shock. When she finally found her voice, what came out of her mouth was not what she expected. "I already have the best husband in the 'verse, and I'll not be replacing him."_

_Korbin snorted, getting to his feet. All guise of a knight in shining armor were replaced by that of a man scorned. "If I was married to you, I would never leave you."_

_The older woman felt her spine snap her back straight so hard she thought it would break. "I beg your pardon?" she hissed in a deadly whisper._

_"He's the most ignorant, selfish, brainless man I've ever heard of!" Korbin continued, unwisely. "What man could possibly walk away from you? What man could choose _war_ over you? A man who's no man at all, that's who."_

_"Get out," snarled Rhoswen. "And never speak of my husband again."_

_"I would treat you so much better. Let me show you what real love is-" _

_Without warning, nor the aid of any human hands, three books came hurtled off the bookshelf and missed Korbin's head by inches. Their covers hit the stone walls with loud slapping noises. He flinched back in surprise and alarm, eyes as big as saucers as he looked at the woman before him. "What the Hell…"_

_Green eyes glinting with rage, Rhoswen's voice was filled with low menace. "Don't make me tell you again. Get out."_

_Korbin blinked, confused by the books flying of their own free will, and a wee bit frightened of the look in his surrogate mother's eyes. Bowing low as he left, the young man shut the door after him._

_Rhoswen took as deep a breath as she could, and then exhaled it slowly. She bent and retrieved the books from the floor, replacing them on the shelf where they belonged. Then, trying to be as calm as possible, she entered Shay's room._

_Her precious son was under the covers, propped up against his pillows. His arms were crossed angrily, and a deep frown furrowed his brow. "He's gone?" he asked._

_Rhoswen sighed. "Yes, he is. I take it, by your attitude, that you heard?"_

_He snorted, and the image was so like Korbin from moments earlier that Rhoswen blinked in surprise. "I didn't need to hear it. It was waving about his head like a banner the instant he walked in the room."_

_"What was?" she asked gently, sitting down on the edge of the bed. _

_Shay's mouth twisted in a sneer of disgust much older than his years. "His guilt, his jealousy…and his love."_

_Smiling with pride, she reached out and brushed his cheek with her finger. "Where did you learn to talk like that? So grown-up, so proper. Your father would be horrified!"_

_Shay's eyes grew wide, eyes like Mal's. "You've never mentioned-"_

_"I know, but I should've. He gave me this necklace, you know, when he asked me to marry him."_

_Shay reached up and touched it, fingering one of the diamonds in an unconscious mimic of the way his mother did it. "Where is he? Why did he leave?" Child-like fear finally broken through the adult countenance cloaked around him. "Is it…because he didn't want me?"_

_"Oh, dear one!" Rhoswen exclaimed. "Your father doesn't know about you, he had to leave before I knew. But trust me, he will be thrilled when he finds out." Reaching forward, she gathered her son in her lap. "You should be very proud of him; he left us to fight for what he believed in, to make the world we lived in better." She sighed, resting her chin on top of her son's head. "He wanted us to be free to do as we liked, and live as we liked."_

_"He's a soldier?" Shay questioned, voice awed. There were books in the library here, most educational but some fiction, and his favorite fiction ones were those of brave warriors._

_Rhoswen smiled again, this one of memory and longing. "Yes, he is. We met by chance, or perhaps it wasn't chance, at all. But then he had to go and fight his war, and before he came back the slavers came."_

_Shay was silent for a moment, then asked, "Who was he fighting against? Why didn't they want to let us be free?"_

_Rhoswen took a deep breath; how to explain the Alliance and its need for control? Even here, what was happening to her and happening to her son, could be blamed on them. Them and their gorram need for control. But bitterness and regret had no place here. Neither of those emotions would help her understand her new power, and how could she instruct her son if _she_ didn't understand? No, this was not a time to look to the sky and cry, 'Why me?', this was a time to embrace the changes all around her. _

_"Mother?" Shay questioned at her silence. "You are…deciding something," he said, face screwed up in concentration._

_Rhoswen wasn't sure she'd ever get used to this, being unable to have the privacy of her own thoughts anymore. Oh well, again, just something to embrace, not fight. "Well, Shay-"_

_A scream echoed down the hall, one filled with pain and confusion. Another came, and then another, and then another. Rhoswen leaped to her feet, heart pounding in her throat. She may not be their mother in blood or bearing, but still the voices of her surrogate sons in trouble sent shivers through her body._

_"Stay here, Shay. Lock the door. Don't let anyone in but me, do you understand?" she said firmly, already headed toward the door._

_"But-"_

_"Not another word." She paused at the door for a moment, not knowing what awaited her in the hall. "I love you, dear one." And she slammed the door behind her and raced out into the castle._


	6. The Reunion

River skidded to a stop in the hallway, a crossroads before them. Hallways lay to the left and right, and before them was a little alcove with another set of the huge deep red doors that filled this place. And behind them were the ever-gaining wolves with their…creature.

"Time ain't waitin' for us, little one," Mal reminded her. "Which way?"

As if she had all the time in the world, River stood in the intersection and spun slowly, regarding each way carefully, turning on her bare feet with a quiet grace.

Just as Mal was about to grab hold of the girl and give her a good hard shake, there was a sound of splintering furniture from the door directly ahead of them, followed by a boy's voice, soothing and in command, "Come on, Ma, you can do this, get a hold of it. There's no shame, just breathe." There was a strangled moan, then what sounded like another bit of furniture being destroyed. "We're testing my agility, I see. Always looking for the lesson, Mother."

"Captain," Kaylee whispered desperately, grabbing his arm with the strength of a vice. "There's _people-_"

"I know, gorram it!" he snapped, shaking off her hold. Mal's mind couldn't even begin to calculate all the implications of the people behind those doors. Friends? Foes? People in their same situation…or a clever ambush?

"Mother…" River murmured in awe, but no one heard her. Her voice was drowned out as another blood-chilling roar echoed down the corridor. They were coming…fast.

"Come on," Mal said firmly, shoving Kaylee and River in front of him. Regardless of who was inside, Mal had no choice. If they were friendly, perhaps they knew of a way to get out of the castle alive or maybe they themselves needed help. And if they were not friendly, well, they'd have to cross that bridge when they got to it. But Mal was in immediate need of someone who knew what was going on here, and he saw a way to get answers in the voice behind those doors.

Kaylee dashed inside as Mal pushed the doors open, ushering River along with her. From behind her, the mechanic heard the Captain and Jayne close the great wood doors again. The men babbled about ways to barricade the door from the wolves, but the brunette found herself completely spellbound by the sight before her, the fear of the wolves a distant memory.

The room had once been beautiful, Kaylee could see that, but it had now fallen into disrepair, as if someone no longer had time to maintain it. What looked to be scorch-marks sporadically scarred the walls, but there were no torch brackets around. The furniture that was intact was strewn about the space, and that which wasn't lay in hundreds of pieces all over the floor. Crouched behind a surviving table flipped on its edge to make a handy barricade was a boy of about twelve with chestnut hair. He hadn't appeared to notice the intruders as he peered over the edge of the table cautiously.

"That's it, you've got it now," he crooned softly. "Almost under control-" His words were cut off as a chair went whizzing through the air apparently of its own accord to smash into one of the stone walls, disintegrating into barely more than splinters. "OK, maybe not just yet."

Behind Kaylee, there was a solid pound at the door, and Jayne cursed under his breath as he, Mal, and Book attempted to hold the entrance shut against the onslaught of the wolves, who unfortunately hadn't been fooled by the crossroads. But the mechanic might as well have been on another planet, far from this one with its dangerous plants and hungry creatures.

Beyond the fort table the boy hid behind was a woman on her hands and knees, thick dark curls obscuring her face, her back toward the door, as well. The back of her tattered dress was sliced apart, and Kaylee had to bite back a gasp at the wide welts across her spine that wept blood onto the floor. Her breathing was ragged, her back arching as she heaved in and out. Blindly, she groped for one of the few remaining chairs near her with a hand, trying to use it to push herself to her feet. But the chair slid out from under her weight, spilling her to the floor again, this time onto her back. A snarl of pain escaped her tightly pressed lips as the lacerations on her back ground against the floor.

The howls were getting louder, and the doors opened a fraction of an inch before closing again. The sounds of claws and teeth raking at the wood could be heard, as well, and the heart-stopping bellow of the creature seemed to shake the floor. But all the sounds did was insulate Kaylee in her own terrible slow-motion world.

The curls fell away, pooling across the stone floor, revealing a sickly pale face with deep hollows carved beneath weary green eyes. But no amount of ill health or lack of sleep could keep Kaylee from recognizing who was before her. Twelve years had impressed themselves reluctantly on her beauty; from a distance, she would still look twenty-one. This gasp the mechanic could not hide, and her grease-smeared hand rose to cover her mouth in shock. As the certainty of what she was seeing completely stalled her mind, the boy turned slowly to stare at her, as if just hearing the commotion behind him. His eyes were not afraid, but determinedly searching.

"Captain," Kaylee said loudly, oblivious to the danger going on behind her.

"A mite busy, Kaylee!" Mal grunted, feet sliding back as the broken bit of furniture he'd slid between the handles of the door cracked a little more under huge paws. He regained his ground and shoved back harder, easing the strain on the wood.

The boy cocked his head to the side, the probing in his eyes replaced by simple curiosity. "Who are you?" he asked Kaylee. But she didn't, couldn't, answer.

"We are _Serenity_," River said simply, drawing the boy's attention to her.

He blinked in surprise when he saw her, and a small knowing grin lit his face. He then made an elegant bow to her, blue eyes twinkling roguishly. River blushed, and curtsied back to him.

"Captain!" Kaylee repeated, this time more firmly. She was ignored again, however, as the attack continued. The woman on the ground had managed to sit up, and was now trying to get her feet under her again. Like the boy, she belatedly noticed that she had company. Her head lifted and her green gaze locked with Kaylee's. If the young girl had had any doubt to the woman's identity before, it was surely banished now. "_Captain!_" she repeated for the third time, this being a shout that demanded recognition.

"_What?_" he shouted back, patience lost and out of plans to save himself and his crew. Letting go of the door, he spun around, fury and desperation scrawled across his features. But all emotion on his face rearranged completely as he looked beyond Kaylee to the woman on the floor. Mal's mouth opened, as if to speak, but no words came out.

The boy took one…two hesitant steps back before colliding with the table. His hands automatically grabbed behind him to steady himself, for he was obviously incapable of thinking at the moment. "Malcolm Reynolds," he said, the name not quite a question but with such an air of disbelief that it almost sounded like one.

Mal's gaze darted frantically to the boy for an instant before it found the woman again. Meanwhile, the woman's eyes, before cloudy with pain and confusion, sharpened to a crystal clarity as she locked on the man behind Kaylee. If possible, her face became a degree paler than it had been before. Her bottom lip trembled a bit, and she squeezed her eyes shut ferociously, tears forced out through her lashes. Biting her bottom lip to stop its quivering, she shook her head in negation. "He's not there," she said to herself, her voice thick with tears, "he's simply…_not_." Her voice cracked and she brought lacerated hands up to cover her face. "Shay…?"

"Oh, Mother," the boy whispered, his eyes riveted still to the man before him.

Mal's tortured eyes watched the woman lift her head slowly and open her eyes again. Tears streamed openly down her face now, and her lips formed a name obviously not spoken for years, but just as obviously never forgotten. "Mal?"

If he'd thought he was having an emotional overload before, it was nothing compared to the torrent that flooded his veins when he heard his name on her lips for the first time in twelve years, heard the cherished tone of her voice. The skin of his face felt tingly, and it was only when he absently reached up and touched his cheek that he realized he was crying, too.

It was as if no one else in the world existed but the two of them. All Mal saw before him was her, and judging by the cuts, bruises, and her pain-ravaged face, someone had hurt her. As if there was room in his system for more sensations, an undercurrent of rage began to flow under the other hundred emotions surging through his blood. But there would be time to disembowel who'd hurt her later, after he'd figured out if this was love-starved imagination or reality. "Rhoswen?" he finally breathed, his voice shattering the spell around them.

At the sound of _her_ name on _his_ lips, she immediately tried to get to her feet, oblivious to any fatigue or pain that had hindered her earlier. Her body, however, was not so unaware, and her legs just refused to support her weight. Mal's foot came forward involuntarily, his body going to her even while his brain was still uncomprehending of the situation. Not failing him, his body led him the rest of the way across the stone floor to where she remained struggling to gain her feet. He half-fell to his knees beside her, and reached out his hand to touch her.

The doors exploded inward then, bits of wood rocketing off to shower Book and Jayne. The deafening roar of the creature filled the small room as it lurched inside, drowning out Kaylee's scream of terror. Massive paws swept to the sides to knock the Shepherd and the mercenary to the ground, as wolves snaked in between the creature's clawed feet. Mal shifted his body in front of Rhoswen, and he drew his gun in what he knew to be a fruitless attempt to defend his wife.

"No, Mal, wait!" she cried desperately, reaching forward and digging her nails into muscle. Her prohibition froze his trigger finger, but he resisted her attempt to lower his arm and ignored the biting pain of her nails.

Jayne, dazed by the blow dealt to him, shook his head to clear his vision. Sitting up, his blood chilled at the sight of the giant beast before him. Without hesitation, he raised his weapon.

Seeing the movement out of the corner of his eye, Shay turned his head sharply. "No!" he screamed, but his voice was lost in the thundering reports of the gun.


	7. Bloody Truth

Zoë was pacing in the cargo bay, just before the door that led to the passenger dorm and the med bay. She didn't usually stay behind on jobs, and it made her very uncomfortable to be left with nothing to do. She was so intent on her pacing that she nearly collided with Simon, coming up from his room.

"Ah…sorry," he said, startled, stepping back a few paces.

Zoë nodded. "Captain'll watch over your sister," she said after a slight silence, knowing what was on the doctor's mind.

His features stiffened. "I just don't understand why-"

"He's right, you know," the first mate interrupted, quashing Simon's imminent rebellious comment. "And your sister's much tougher than you think. Just give her a chance to show you."

Simon paused for a moment, mulling over Zoë's remark. He took a breath, about to make some apologetic gesture for being cranky, when a movement by the open cargo bay doors caused him to turn. The young doctor felt his heart start thumping. "Um, Zoë…"

She turned, and a curse hissed out from between her teeth. She grabbed Simon and pressed him against the wall beside her. Hands suddenly slicked with sweat gripped her shotgun like a vice. What she was seeing…couldn't possible exist. They were huge creatures, four of them, monsters like she'd never seen or heard of in all her life. There was no choice, she'd have to kill them. She couldn't risk any attempt to talk; she didn't even know if they _could_ talk. Bracing herself, she was about to spin into the open and let loose her first shot when faint gunfire reached her ears.

The creatures froze, looking at one another. Then, letting out howls that reverberated through the cargo bay and made Zoë's ears ring painfully, they turned and raced out of the ship, headed back toward the castle.

"My God," Simon breathed from beside her.

"I'm not sure God had anything to do with those," Zoë replied grimly.

Simon nodded numbly, then a horrifying realization hit him like a bucket of cold water. "Those things came from the castle! River!" He attempted to bolt out of the ship.

Zoë snagged him as he tried to run. "You're not going anywhere. There's nothing we can do but obey orders," she said harshly.

"But-!"

"Don't question me, Doctor," she said firmly. "We don't know what's in there. We rush in, all that happens is that we're all dead. All we can do is wait." But Zoë could barely breathe around the knot of dread in her chest.

-----------------------------------------------

The bullets struck the creature across its massive chest, sending a shower of blood and muscle into the air. It bellowed in pain, reeling backwards. Rhoswen's howl of anguish sounded eerily wolf-like as she pushed herself to her feet desperately and darted around Mal. He made a reach for her, but fell short. _For hurtin' like she looks to be, she's gorram quick!_ he thought.

The wolves, who'd been menacing Kaylee, River, and Book, immediately halted. Their golden eyes stared up at the beast in uncertainty and fear. It took another step backwards then fell slowly to its knees, like a giant tree toppling to the ground. Howling again, blood pouring from a half dozen wounds in its chest, it collapsed onto its back and lay still.

Rhoswen fell to her knees at the beast's head. She gently shifted her legs underneath its skull like a pillow, stroking its coat as tears dropped from her face to its muzzle, making dark gray fur darker still. It slowly, haltingly, reached a huge paw up towards her face.

"Whoa!" Mal brought up his gun again. He did _not_ like that thing's giant mitt by his wife's face. But Kaylee grabbed his arm and wouldn't let it go, shaking her head urgently even while she never took her eyes off the woman on the floor with the dying creature. Then, her eyes widened in shock.

"Oh, God," she breathed, her face crumpling into tears. She turned and buried her face into Mal's shoulder.

"What in ruttin' Hell-?" Jayne growled, eyes strained in their sockets, gun still drawn.

The animal on the floor was…changing. The hulking, fur-covered form shrank and the fur disappeared, revealing the smooth skin of a human. Paws became hands and feet, snout became nose, the ruined barrel chest became the ruined chest of a young man…and blood still pooled around him. Blue eyes stared up at the woman above him, blond hair slicked with sweat. His hand caressed her cheek, clumsily wiping away tears.

"I'm-" he gasped, chest heaving, "-sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Rhoswen replied gruffly, trying to clear her throat.

"I didn't realize who-" He broke off, voice rattling. "Your faith was right…all along." Rhoswen laughed despite herself. Suddenly, his face hardened, blue eyes focusing intensely. "Finish it," he said fiercely.

She leaned down and kissed his forehead, smoothing his hair back. "I will. Rest in peace, Korbin. Rest, my son."

He smiled, then his eyes fluttered closed. The hand that had touched her face fell to the cold stone floor with a _smack_. Rhoswen bowed her head as she sat in a pool of blood, and wept.


	8. Questions

"Mother?" Shay ventured after a few moments of nothing but Rhoswen's sobbing, his own voice cracking with emotion. When she didn't answer, the boy's face crumpled, and the iron-tight grip on his control slipped. "Mom," he tried again, his voice pleading as tears rolled down his cheeks. As if she was deaf, the woman on the floor offered no response to her son's heartfelt plea. Hugging the head of the dead young man against her chest, she began rocking back and forth.

Gripping the upturned table hard enough to make his knuckles white, Shay bowed his head. He waved in the direction of his mother, and the wolves padded over silently to do his bidding. They surged around her, pressing their heavy bodies into her shoulders and back. Another pushed its wet nose against her cheek, whining low in its throat as if grieved with her.

Tip-toeing on her oh-so-silent feet, River carefully wound her way passed the others until she was standing next to Shay. She watched for a moment, curiously, as his tears dripped off the end of his nose, and his hair obscured his eyes from her view. Reaching forward, she touched him on the shoulder.

He did not flinch or start with surprise, despite the fact that there'd been no way he could've seen her approach. He simply shook his head, keeping his eyes on the floor. After a few more moments, he said thickly, "He was my brother."

River's hand tightened reflexively on his shoulder, and her own eyes suddenly swam with tears. "Brothers take care of you," she replied, biting her lip.

"We all take care of each other here," he said, and then raised his red-rimmed eyes to hers.

River smiled at him through her tears as she answered, "We do, too."

Through this whole exchange, Mal's eyes had been riveted to the form of his sobbing wife. "Rhoswen?" he called softly, despite the boy's failed attempts. When she didn't respond, he unwisely stepped forward and went to place a hand on her shoulder.

The wolf nearest to him rounded on him in a full snarl. Mal snatched his hand away, and the ­_click_ of teeth on empty air was chillingly. Reflexively, he raised his gun again and leveled it at the snarling wolf, cocking the hammer back. Within seconds, tension returned to the air that had previously achieved at least a semblance of peace, albeit mournful.

"Captain!" Kaylee hissed from behind him.

"Enough!" Rhoswen shouted, snapping out of her trance and twisting around to glare in green-eyed fury. "There'll be no more blood spilled this day! Orion, Malcolm, calm yourselves!"

The wolf instantly lowered its curled lip and sank to the ground. The snarling had stopped, but its golden eyes remained trained on the captain of _Serenity_. And despite twelve years without her, Mal still obeyed the command in that voice as if he'd fallen in love with her just yesterday, and the muzzle of his gun dipped low to aim at the floor.

It was Shepherd Book who spoke next. "Ma'am, we're deeply sorry for the hurt we've caused-"

"Nothing to be sorry for," Rhoswen repeated, turning back to bow over the blond's head again. "Accidents in the heat of the moment are…regrettable, but no fault lies with anyone." Despite the calm acceptance in her voice, her green gaze flickered to Jayne, and flashed with rage. The mercenary swallowed hard, and unobtrusively shuffled back a pace.

"If you'd like," Book continued, "I'm a Shepherd, and I would gladly preside over-"

"No, thank you," Rhoswen interrupted again, cutting off the preacher with steel in her voice. "God has forgotten us long ago, and I'll not have false words spoken over the body of one of my sons."

"Sons-?" Mal finally croaked out, eyes darting belatedly to Shay. It was only now, with his adrenaline subsiding, that he noticed the blaring similarities between himself and the boy standing next to River. He felt as if he was looking into a mirror that reflected an image from the past: a thirteen-year-old farm boy on Shadow who's only care was doing a good enough job on his chores that his mother would let him help the farmhands with their duties. _"Lao tian ye…"_ Feeling like the very air was choking him, he managed to whisper, "Rhoswen…you didn't tell me."

Her back stiffened, and the welts oozed a few more drops of blood. "I didn't know until after you were gone."

Stung by Rhoswen's rebuke, but also completely baffled, Book turned toward Mal and Kaylee. "What's going on here?"

Ignoring the Shepherd, Mal continued his conversation in a whisper. "Rhoswen, how did you get here? Who's done hurt to you? What's this place? Who are these," he swallowed hard, "boys?"

Turning around again, the woman favored him with a sad smile. "That's a lot of questions, Malcolm. And I'll answer them, make no mistake, but there are other…things that need doing first." Glancing back down at the blond head in her lap, she absently stroked the hair.

Mal felt his ears burn as color crawled up his face. _Backbirth! Yammerin' a million things when there's a dead body in her lap!_ "'Course, didn't mean, you know, now."

Rhoswen got shakily to her feet. Shay made as if to step forward and help her, but she waved him off. "Orion," she said to the wolf that had previously been threatening Mal, "go find your older brothers. I'll need their help to carry him." He obediently trotted out the broken door and down the hallway.

"Mom, you're exhausted," Shay scolded. "Me and the boys can do it."

"You'll do nothing of the sort!" she snapped, curls flying as she looked at him sharply. "I buried Acario, but I failed Elias, and I won't fail Korbin!"

"I don't think being unconscious counts as failure, Mother," Shay said sternly.

"I failed to protect him, the least I could've done was bury him!" she retorted, tears welling up in her already bloodshot eyes.

Shay's eyes widened. "_Mom_!" he exclaimed, shocked. "You didn't fail Elias!"

"He's dead, isn't he?!" his mother shouted back at him, losing any semblance of composure. At her feet, the wolves whined uncomfortably.

Her son backed up a step, and held up his hands in surrender. "OK, we can talk about this later. I wasn't trying to start a fight," he replied, voice meek and full of contrition. "Forgive me."

Kaylee felt her eyebrows knit together in confusion. Why had Rhoswen suddenly attacked Shay, and why was he backing down so completely? Simple guilt of a child causing a parent trouble, or was something behind his smooth retreat? Glancing at River, the mechanic noticed that the girl was mimicking the younger boy's movements: hands up and a pace back. Taking a deep breath, Kaylee realized that she may not know what was going on, but River certainly did.

"Why don't you let us handle the boy," Mal suggested in the tense quiet, "and Kaylee here can lead you to our ship and get you all patched up."

"Sure can," Kaylee answered, overly bright. "We got the best doctor this side of the Core."

Rhoswen's glare turned to Mal. "You want to just swoop in here and take control, hmm?"

Mal froze. That was a tone he'd learned not to screw around with the instant he'd met Rhoswen. Except this time, there was something else in her voice: a hint of irrationality, a hint of madness.

"Mother, he wasn't trying to take over. Everyone knows that you're in charge," Shay said hastily. "Why don't you sit back down, relax, and we'll talk about where we're going to bury Korbin?"

She turned the full heat of her eyes back to her son, shoulders heaving as she breathed raggedly. Her lips twisted to voice a scathing retort, but then her penetrating gaze turned glassy. Her footing wobbled, and she held out a shaking hand to try to remain balanced.

"Mom, sit down," Shay commanded, any traces of timidity and placation gone. "Mom!" he shouted, just as she toppled to the ground. Shay winced, looking away, knowing one of his brothers was about to be landed on. But the dull _thud_ of inert human contacting furry wolf back never came.

Shay's eyes widened in surprise as he looked back to where his mother and his murdered brother was. Mal had closed the distance between himself and Rhoswen in the blink of an eye, and caught her before she'd hit the ground. He now sat on the ground himself, cradling her in his arms, and burying his face in the wealth of her curls. Shay sighed; this was going to be interesting.

"I want to know what in ruttin' Hell's going on here," Jayne demanded, his voice strangled.

Shay went to open his mouth, but Kaylee beat him to it. "She's the Captain's wife," she said, her eyes huge as they moved from Mal to the boy, "and he's their son."


	9. Answers

Shay sighed deeply, rubbing his face and leaning his back against a box of cargo. He could hear the clicking nails of the wolves as they paced the metal floors of _Serenity_, and the heavy footfalls of his older brothers in their wolf-like forms. Like a good boy, Shay had read stories of things that go bump in the night, and so his brothers were not inexplicable abominations to him; they were werewolves.

In fact, he was having a worse time with what was currently happening than he'd ever had with his brothers' forms, his mother's power, or his own power. It all felt like a dream; his father, Korbin's death, and perhaps finally a chance for salvation. But all that would come later. Right now, he could feel the storm gathering.

Mal came charging out of the med bay, boot heels clicking angrily against the metal grating and thunder in his eyes. He stomped to a halt before his son, who was near River and Inara, and he glared down at his offspring with anger fairly crackling around his frame. "OK, no more games. I want answers," he growled, glowering down at the boy.

At the captain's hostile approach, one of the werewolves nearest to the boy curled his lip as a snarl rippled from his throat. Inara paled at the sound, but River seemed completely nonplussed. The other ­­­­wolves spread out across the room raised their heads in intense interest, their own hostility projecting out like heat waves.

Shay's head lifted, gazing into his sire's face without alarm. "Silas, please," he said quietly, touching the animal's huge bicep. Glancing down, the creature stopped snarling and lowered his lip. The boy then gestured to the other side of the ship, but Silas refused to budge. Instead, he crossed his massive arms and stood to his full height, towering over Mal. But the captain of _Serenity_ was too incensed to be afraid, and tilted his head back to stare into the monster's face.

"I want answers," he repeated, voice tightly controlled, eyes not leaving the golden pair that fiercely returned his stare.

Shay sighed. This rage was expected; at least, if Malcolm Reynolds was even half the man his mother had claimed him to be. He hoped that warmth could grow between himself and Mal, but now wasn't the time. "I can't tell you the whole story," he began, "I was too young to remember most of it."

"Don't care how much or how little," Mal countered, finally turning to look at the boy, "but I want information."

"How about you ask questions, and I'll answer them as best I can?" he suggested as peaceably as possible, glancing around at the group that had gathered around him: eight people, including his long-lost father, who were waiting with bated breath for a much-deserved explanation.

Inara smiled at him. "That will be fine, Shay," she said reassuringly.

Mal barely spared her a glance, before crossing his arms in a mirror of the creature in front of him and focusing all his attention on his progeny. "Shiny. So, let's start off slow: who are these..." his eyes darted around the room to the wolves and werewolves prowling through his hold, "boys? Your brothers?"

"They were with us on the last slave ship we were on, the one that crashed here. They're not actually my brothers," Shay added, correctly interpreting Mal's eyes. "I've just always called them that since we're a family; have been since the day Mother and I met them."

"Brothers, like Simon," River agreed emphatically, a broad grin spreading across her face.

"Why are they like that?" Kaylee asked in a hushed, fearful whisper. "Why are they...stuck?"

He smiled to try to assuage her apprehensions. "Don't worry, Miss Kaylee, it's not catching. The change happened after we'd been here for about three years; they've been like that ever since. The werewolves are the older boys, the wolves are the younger ones, but they're all older than me."

"But why?" she demanded, hysteria edging around the corners of her voice. "Who made 'em like that?"

Wash stroked her shoulder reassuringly, and asked another question quickly, to get Kaylee's mind off the situation of the boys. "Why can't we leave? In fact, why did we crash in the first place?"

Shay smiled ruefully, chafing his hands against each other almost in embarrassment. "Are you the pilot?" he questioned back. Wash nodded. "You have my admiration then, for landing your ship so well under such unusual circumstances."

Wash blushed slightly under the praise, but cleared his throat and continued to look at the boy pointedly.

"But I haven't answered your question," Shay admitted. "Well, you crashed here because this planet has an extraordinarily strong pull of gravity. It pulls everything in that happens to come too close. It's how we got here. The slaver piloting the ship, however, didn't have _your_ skills," he said, gesturing at Wash, "so instead of landing, we crashed. My brother Acario died in the crash, along with Mother's friend Eara."

"Eara—?" Mal choked, throat closing up on him. Rhoswen's best friend. He couldn't help turning and looking toward the med bay, where Simon worked to stitch up the horrific gashes in his wife's back. "Who did that to her?" he whispered finally, pain in his eyes.

Shay looked into his father's eyes, and saw his thoughts around his head like a haze. Fragments only, though; with training, his father would be able to block a mind-reader almost as good as his mother could. Funny, how power surfaces randomly. The fragments, however, were clear enough: pain, fear, rage, uncertainty…and above all love. Shay knew he could not do this man who loved his mother the injustice of sugar-coating the truth.

"She was attacked last night. There were three slavers who survived the crash. They spread out into the jungle. The other two are dead, and she ran into the third last night, and couldn't defend herself." He closed his eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath. "If it wasn't for Silas and Tristan," a werewolf across the room lifted its head at the sound of its name, "she'd probably be dead, and we'd be in Hell."

"Why would you be in Hell?" Zoë demanded sharply.

The boy regarded the first mate through narrowed eyes. "Ah, there it is: the priceless question."

"So answer it," Zoë ­retorted, her voice low and stern.

"You're not going to like it," he warned.

"I've got no time for games," Mal snapped in a brittle tone.

"With that, I'll agree," Shay retorted, shooting his father a glare. Then he breathed deep, briefly closing his eyes. "This planet, Psyche, has an...awareness. That is why I can read minds, why my brothers look as they do, why my mother is losing the last shreds of her sanity," he paused, and then let his eyes lock with his Mal's, "and why you can't leave. Psyche controls the gravity, and she doesn't plan on _letting_ you, or anyone, leave until she has what she wants." He gave a nervous laugh at the looks on their faces, and let his arms drop in helplessness. "And we're not exactly in a position to argue with her."


	10. Equilibrium

Sorry it's been so long! Myself and my lovely Beta have been busy busy people, and I appreciate your patience. I really hope you guys like this chapter, it should answer almost all your questions! Please review!

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"Can you run that by me…again?" Mal said into the stunned silence. "This rock is…what?"

"And you can read minds? Like River?" Simon interrupted.

"One thing at a time, Doc," Zoë admonished slightly, keeping her face carefully neutral. "You said Psyche, this planet, is alive?"

"'Alive' is a poor word choice," Shay said, "but it conveys the right meaning, yes."

"And you know this how exactly?" Wash asked, looking at the boy as if he were playing some ridiculous imaginary game and now it was time to come in for dinner.

"Well, first of all, my brothers didn't become wolves and werewolves by themselves, clearly. Nor did I become a mind reader or my mother able to move objects with her mind all by our lonesomes," Shay retorted, a little sharply. He did _not_ enjoy being thought of as a liar.

"The broken furniture; that was her!" Kaylee exclaimed. "She did it with her brain!"

Shay smiled at her. "Yes, Miss Kaylee. She used to have much more control over it. But," he added, evasively, "recently, she's been unable to control much of anything."

"And how else do you know this planet is alive?" Zoë prompted, before the Captain could ask about why Rhoswen has lost control. Of course she'd known about Mal's wife; the man hadn't been able to shut up about her in the trenches. But when they'd returned to her home to get her… Zoë had been trying to erase the memory from her mind for years: the abandoned and desecrated town and Malcolm, already a broken man from the loss to the Alliance, collapsing in the street as the fate of his wife dawned on him, howling with despair. Zoë had feared he would go mad, but he'd pulled himself back together just barely, now only a shadow of the man he once was.

"On the day my brothers changed forms, my mother had visited the old wreck of the slaver ship. In the captain's quarters, she found the necklace you gave her," Shay replied, his gaze shifting briefly to Mal, who gave a strangled moan. Hastily, his son moved on, "While in the quarters, she used her telekinesis for the first time, and Psyche spoke to her. Not so much in words, more in images and ideas, but my mother clearly understood her message.

"Psyche is the product of an Alliance experiment. They were trying to create a cognizant planet for defensive purposes. In their ambition, they forgot that awareness breeds wants and ambitions of its own. Psyche is of the opinion that she can affect more change by bonding with a human conduit. She's looking to influence people's lives in a real way, and she can only do that with a helping hand; someone to channel her power through."

"No offense, but how is it you know your ma's hasn't just lost her marbles?" Jayne sneered.

Mal's and Shay's eyes flashed in eerily symmetrical anger. "Because she hasn't!" the boy snapped. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Besides, we found records confirming what Psyche showed her. Alliance stuff, so they didn't say how they did it. But after it was done, everyone died off in the initial power surge."

"An electrical accident?" Wash questioned.

Shay laughed bitterly, resembling his father again. "No, forgive me, you misunderstand. The power surge was when Psyche distributed her power to those she found worthy to be her conduits. The idea is that 'gifts' are given, and then those worthy must fight it out amongst each other to find the winner, the ultimate channel for the planet.

"However, when you fight someone else in the competition and win, their power becomes yours. Mother used to have excellent control over her telekinesis, until she defeated one of the others and absorbed his power."

"How does one 'win' against another?" asked Book.

Shay kept a sneer from his face at the Shepherd's tone, but just barely. "You must kill them, Preacher, I thought that was obvious."

"Kill?" Mal gaped. Rhoswen…kill someone? He had not thought her capable of something like that. Apparently, things had changed.

"The contest was between Mother and the three other slavers who survived the crash. Apparently, those who enslave their fellows have merit unknown to us mere mortals. My brothers and I aren't involved; we are not _worthy_." He spat the last word, as if it tasted bad in his mouth. "We were given gifts simply due to Psyche's…generosity.

"One of the slavers broke into the castle late one night, looking for Mother. He ran into one of my brothers, Elias, instead. Elias was just a wolf, not a werewolf, though, and so he was killed in the fight. The commotion drew attention, of course. And Mother finished him off. After that she lost consciousness for several days." The boy's gaze drifted to the med bay.

"When she woke up, she'd taken the other slaver's power: the ability to harness light," he continued after a few moments of silence. "She couldn't control it, and she lost her control over her telekinesis. That was about a month ago. Since then, life has been a nightmare.

"She barely sleeps, barely eats. She hallucinates sometimes, speaks nonsense other times. Her body can't handle the war inside her much longer, which is why she went after the last slaver last night. Once she defeats him, she'll be Psyche's champion."

"What happened last night?" Mal breathed.

"The slaver lives deep in the jungle and one of his many talents is controlling the plants-"

"The plants?" Wash broke in. "They attacked us on the beach!"

"Does he know we're here?" Zoë demanded sharply.

"Probably," Shay shrugged. "They could just automatically defend him, he might not have sent them. I don't know how his powers work. He hasn't come after us, though, so I doubt we have anything to worry about. At least as far as defense is concerned. At least, not yet. He's got to be in as much hell as Mother is, though, so it's only a matter of time before-"

"And what _exactly_ is that hell?" Mal almost shouted, his fists clenched at his sides. All eyes were drawn to him, but then, slowly, the gazes all fell back to the boy before him. "What is wrong with my wife?" the Captain asked, each word forcibly restrained.

Shay sighed; no more beating around the bush with other, albeit important, explanations. Time for the truth. "The two powers are pushing against each other, in her mind, fighting for control. But she'll only have control if she beats the last slaver. When she does that, she'll have all Psyche's powers and they will be countered by each other, creating equilibrium. In the meantime, she's stuck," he paused, his eyes straying to the med bay where his mother lay, "striving for balance."


	11. Forgiveness

Rhoswen's eyes opened, and her entire body tensed as the unfamiliarity of her surroundings crashed around her. White walls, white cabinets, white floor, white white white, interrupted only by cold, shining steel. On her stomach, also strange since she never slept that way, she used her palms to try to push herself upright. The screaming pain of her back at being moved brought a whimper to her lips as she collapsed back down onto the table, fingers curling into involuntary claws.

"Rhoswen?" came a concerned voice from behind her.

Her eyes widened momentarily as the events of the day spun around her dizzyingly, reminding her of her losses…and her gains. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she closed them to shut out the alien room. "Yes, Malcolm?" she answered, trying to be as even-voiced as possible.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice moving as he came around the table.

"It's fine," she assured him, eyes still closed.

"Don't lie to me, girl," he said sharply.

Rhoswen's eyes snapped open, and she looked up at her husband's towering form, his arms crossed sternly. "Since when did you get so mouthy with me?" she wondered out loud.

"I've always been mouthy with you," he replied back. Dragging a stool forward with his foot, he sat down next to the table. "Smart boy you got out there," he said, changing the subject.

"Smart boy _we've_ got," she corrected, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah…" Mal's eyes trailed up to the cargo bay, where he thought he saw glimpses of combat boots running about, which were followed swiftly by wolf paws. He turned abruptly away. "Where'd he learn to talk so pretty? Never thought a son of mine'd have that flowery turn of phrase."

"Sorry, dear one, I tried to teach him our decent folk speech, but there were too many books around," Rhoswen teased. "I've even lost most of my accent."

"Traitor," Mal accused, trying not to smile and failing miserably. The grin broke across his face like a waterfall, but it vanished like smoke. "Rhoswen, he told us everything."

The playful smirk slid away and her eyes grew cold. "I see. Well, next time I go after Shrevar, I'll be better prepared. I didn't know about the plants."

"That's funny, because I got a notion you'll be doing nothing of its kind," Mal countered grimly.

She rolled her eyes. "I have to. Or I'll lose every shred of my sanity. Does that sound like an appealing prospect to you?"

"Hell, you know-"

"Well then, there's no other way," she said with an air of finality. "Besides, if you and your crew ever want to leave this rock, I have to be Psyche's champion. I doubt Shrevar will let you go." Narrowing her eyes, she peered at him. "And I get the impression that the homebody you had in your heart has long since left, so I best be winning sooner rather than later."

"Seeing as how _you_ were the reason for him, makes logical sense that with you being dead, so was he," Mal said gruffly. "And just 'cause I'm findin' you to be very much alive…don't make him rise from his grave."

"I never made him, but he's gone nonetheless," she replied. The air between them was thick with unsaid words, and Rhoswen felt compelled to fill the silence. "I was unfaithful to you, Mal."

At first, the words took his breath away. The thought of another man's hands on her body, her lips kissing God only knows what of his – enough to drive him temporarily mad. But then his brain caught up with his imagination. "So was I," he countered, unable to halt the stab of guilt through his heart. He never thought he would have to tell her that unless, of course, it was in whatever afterlife there was. "There's no need to hold anybody accountable for the past," he added.

Rhoswen shook her head. "You thought I was dead, you had free reign to do what you wanted. But me…I never thought you were dead." She fell headlong into an explanation then, her speech getting faster with her agitation. "But I didn't just do it, you know, for no reason. I did it to protect our son, and the other boys. It was the only way to keep them safe, it was all I had to bargain with. The things the slavers were threatening against the boys, against Shay, were…were despicable. I had to do something, I had to have control of _something_-" She bit her lip to cut off her rambling, and looked up at him out of the corner of her emerald eyes. "Please forgive me."

Mal's mind roared at the implication of what she was saying. His opinion of prostitution was no secret, but the idea of his wife being _forced_ to do it was almost too much to bear. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, attempting to control his emotions.

"Mal?" she questioned, her heart sinking at his reaction.

Her despairing tone snapped him out of his own personal Hell of guilt and rage. He pulled his head back forward and leaned in, taking one of her hands in both of his. "There's nothing to forgive. I'm certain you did what you had to to keep yourself alive. I can't even begin to conjure all you've been through, and after that last bit I heard, I don't reckon I want to. You sufferin' all that because I wasn't there to protect you-"

"Malcolm!" she whispered, horrified. "You can't possibly feel like any of this is your fault!"

"I wasn't _there_!" he barked, his grip momentarily tightening on her hand. "And you suffered. And our," he swallowed hard, "son suffered. That boy's never had a father, because I left you. I always swore I wouldn't be my old man, and here I sit."

"You are _not_ your father!" she said firmly and slowly, but it did no good.

"Yes, I am," he said quietly. "I abandoned my family." As that realization crashed over him, Mal's control broke like a dam with too much pressure behind it. Burying his face against her hand, his voice shook as he said, "Rhoswen, I'm so sorry-" but that was all he managed to articulate before his voice cracked and tears overran his blue eyes. Sobs shuddered through his body as he begged for absolution of his imagined sins.

Rhoswen felt her heart skip a beat at the pressure and insistence of Malcolm's guilt. She wanted to take him by the shoulders, shake some sense into him, demand that he recognize that this wasn't his fault. But now was not the time for that. If he needed to make apologies, she'd accommodate him. There were bigger issues to deal with at the moment then convincing Mal his self-torment was unfounded.

Reaching up to run her fingers through his hair, she bent her lips to his ear, whispering comfort and reassurance and professions of forgiveness and love until his sobs quieted and he simply trembled within her hands. Lifting her head, she pressed her lips to the crown of his head, the almost-forgotten feel of his hair tickling her face. Movement to her right caught her attention, and she raised her gaze further, never losing contact with Mal's head.

Standing in the doorway to the med bay was Simon, twenty different emotions scrawled across his face. He appeared frozen in shock mostly, having witnessed Mal's emotional collapse. Rhoswen's green stare seemed to snap him out of his stupor, and he managed to pull his doctorly mask around himself and look a question at her with his eyes.

She may not have met Simon yet, or most of the crew for that matter, but she gathered what role he must play immediately. Still holding his eyes by sheer force of will, she nodded minutely to him that she was fine. But it was her eyes that made it clear to him that his presence was absolutely unwanted, and that he should beat a hasty, yet utterly silent, retreat. And he did just that without another moment's hesitation, backing away slowly and tip-toeing out of the vicinity.


End file.
